Loving Graham

by Kenna Knight

  “You’re cooking at my house?”

  “Yes, I’ll have to grocery shop, though. I don’t think I know how to make anything with protein powder and kale. Do you ever eat at home?”

  “Yeah, all the time. There’s a drawer full of take-out menus to the left of the sink.”

  “Yeah, no, I’m not letting some random restaurant feed you tonight. Be ready to eat something great.”

  “Okay, hey, Levi, do you have an apron?”

  “Yeah, why?” he asks hesitantly.

  “I want to come home and find you in my kitchen making our dinner dressed in just your apron.”

  He chuckles. “I’ll see what I can do. Will you still be home around five?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  “Bye.”

  I finish my afternoon on autopilot cutting and coloring hair while I daydream about Levi’s perfect round ass sticking out the back of an apron while he cooks our dinner.

  A couple of times I have to excuse myself and think about my grandma’s musty basement, an all-girls school, and cold showers to get rid of the boner I’m sporting after thinking about the evening to come.

  When my last happy client walks out the door, I’m right behind her getting on my bike to speed home. I stop on the way and grab a six-pack of beer and flowers to prove that I am not only practical but also romantic.

  When I arrive, I am disappointed to find the locksmith’s truck still parked in the driveway. I walk up to the front door where a very young, very handsome locksmith is on his knees replacing the lock of my door and laughing with Levi.

  I am both grateful and disappointed that Levi is fully dressed. I’m sure he couldn’t control when the locksmith showed up since it was a last-minute job on a Saturday, but damn, I wanted to see him in that apron.

  “Hey, there he is, we were just talking about you. Graham, this is Denver. Denver this is Graham, he owns the house.”

  Denver doesn’t stand but offers me his hand to shake. “Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you, this guy talks about you all the time.”

  “All good I hope,” I say shaking his hand.

  “You kidding? I half expected you to be coated in gold with a sugar coating.”

  Levi blushes bright red. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

  Denver shakes his head. “Yeah, whatever. I can’t wait to tell Shelia you finally found a man. Now she can stop asking me to set you up.”

  I look at Levi for answers. “Shelia is a cop, and Denver’s her little brother.”

  “Ah, I see. I forgot you told me you knew the locksmith. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Denver. You staying for dinner?”

  He looks at the flowers and beer I’m holding. “Nah, looks like I’d be a third wheel, maybe another time.” I’m relieved when he turns down my offer. I felt obligated to invite him since he’s Levi’s friend, but I want some alone time with my boyfriend tonight.

  “Dinner’s almost ready,” Levi says.

  “Okay. Oh, these are for you. Thanks for taking care of all this for me,” I say handing him the bouquet of wildflowers.

  He takes them from me and kisses me as I squeeze by through the door. We exchange longing looks before I make my way to my bedroom to shower.

  “Oh hey, Denver, could you leave four keys, please?” I call down the hall. I need one for myself, a spare, one for Gloria, and another for Levi. When I round the corner, I see Levi’s concerned face. He probably thinks I’m just going to pass out keys to anybody. Well, I’ve got news for him. These are the last keys I’ll ever have made, and he and Gloria are the only people who will ever have them.

  “Sure thing, boss,” Denver calls out.

  In my bathroom, I strip out of my black jeans and black button-up shirt and step into the shower. That’s when I smell the delicious scent of whatever Levi’s cooking for dinner in my kitchen, with all of his clothes on. I guess I’ll have to leave that particular fantasy for another day.

  When I’m done, I dry off and pull on some swim trunks and follow the delicious smells to the kitchen. I can hear Levi saying goodbye to Denver and thanking him for coming on his day off. I look into the dining area and see that he has gone all out setting the table and even put the flowers I brought him in a vase as a centerpiece.

  When we were in Seattle, we walked past a street vendor selling wildflowers like the ones I bought him today. Levi pointed them out and mentioned how much he detests fussy formal flowers and loves the look of natural wildflowers.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Levi says entering the kitchen.

  I open the refrigerator and turn my head to look at him suggestively. “Oh, I’m starving, don’t worry.” He smiles and stirs something on the stove. I turn back to the fridge and find it packed full of food. I never shop because I can’t cook for shit.

  “Wow, you went a little crazy at the grocery store, huh?”

  “You had nothing, Graham, like literally two eggs and some kale. How do you stay alive?”

  I point at the drawer with the menus. “That’s sad,” he says tipping his head down to look up at me through long lashes.

  “I hope you plan on making things with all this food, otherwise it’s going to go to waste.” I know he hates waste as much as I do. I’m counting on him accepting the challenge.

  “Of course. I didn’t expect you to become a chef overnight. We can cook together, I think you’ll like doing it as a team.”

  “We’re a team now, huh?” I say taking a beer from the door and closing it.

  “It seems so. Oh, before I forget, your keys are on the counter.”

  “Our keys. One of the keys is for you, and one is a spare, so if you have any great ideas for hiding places, let me know.”

  He moves the pot he is stirring off of the burner and looks at me. “You’re giving me a key to your house?”

  I slide up onto the counter and take a long drink of my beer. “Yeah, is that okay? Because the look on your face says it’s not.” His eyes are full of confusion and a hint of panic.

  “I, uh, I just figured you changed the locks to limit access to your house, and now you’re passing them out again.”

  That is so not what’s bothering him. I can tell by the tremor in his voice. “Come here,” I say holding out my hand for him. He steps closer, and I guide him between my legs. With my hands resting on his hips I ask, “What is really bothering you?”

  His eyes wander away, but I bring them back to mine with a finger under his chin. “Talk to me, Levi, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, and I think that’s it. You’re so damn good, Graham. I don’t think you have any idea what a rarity you are in the world today. My job brings me face to face with horrible people and grueling situations on a regular basis. When Neil did what he did, it devastated me, but in a way, I understood it because that’s how I see the world. I’m jaded and calloused, but you’re a breath of fresh, pure, vulnerable air, and to be honest, sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re real.”

  My eyes dart back and forth between his trying to read between the lines of what he’s said. Is he trying to tell me I’m too good to be true, and he simply cannot believe in me? Or is he saying he loves me, and he’s glad I’m giving him a key to my world?

  “I’m confused. Are you cool with having a key to my house or no?”

  The corners of his mouth lift in a smile of defeat. “I’m cool. Very cool, thank you.”

  “Great, because I’m starving, and whatever you’re cooking over there is making my stomach growl.”

  “Sorry about the apron,” he says moving away to take something from the oven.

  “That’s okay. I expect a rain check, and with all that food in the fridge, I think I’ll have ample opportunities to collect.”

  “Until Wednesday that is.”

  Ugh, Wednesday. I love Milan, but right now, the only thing I want to do is spend every waking and sleeping moment with Levi.

  “I wish you could go with me.”

/>   He glances down at Klondike who has been eyeing his every move waiting for something—anything—to fall on the floor so he can scarf it down. “Who would watch the kids?” he asks.

  I look at Klondike and, on cue, he tilts his head to the side as if to say, yeah what about us, dude? It’s so funny, I can’t help but laugh. “They have taken to you, haven’t they?” I offer, and he drops a tiny potato on the floor for Klondike. “And now I know why. He’s going to get fat if you feed him human food.”

  “You eat human food, and you’re not fat.”

  “I eat healthy human food, for the most part anyway.”

  “I hate to burst your bubble, love, but those take-out menus in that drawer… yeah, every one of them will ruin the lining of your stomach, give you diabetes, and eventually a heart attack.”

  “Will you save me? And poor Klondike and Sherman, too?” I say fluttering my eyelashes for dramatic effect.

  “I shall do my best for the next few days.”

  “What about when I get home in two weeks?”

  “Then, too.”

  “Cool. So, what’s for dinner, Chef Levi?”

  “London broil with potatoes and asparagus.”

  “Mmm, God that sounds good. The only time I get home-cooked food is at my mom and dad’s house.”

  “I figured as much.”

  His phone rings in his pocket, and I slide off the counter to get it for him. “Your hands are full, let me help,” I say in his ear pressing my front to his back and removing the phone from his pocket.

  He has a knife in one hand and a fork in the other cutting the meat so I should be careful, but I can’t help but brush my hand against his cock. His body stiffens, and he stops what he is doing to listen to the person on the other line while I hold the phone up to his ear with one hand and stroke him through his shorts with the other.

  I kiss the side of his neck and feel his pulse quicken as he murmurs yes and no to the caller. I should stop. It could be work or Nicky. It could be important, but I can’t help myself.

  “Yes sir, I understand. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  Now I do stop teasing him and put my hand on his hip while he finishes the call. It was important, now I feel like a jerk. I didn’t expect him to get a work call on a Saturday night, but I guess cops and detectives are never really off work.

  He says goodbye and nods for me to remove the phone. “You have to go?”

  He lays the fork and knife down and turns in my arms. “Unfortunately, yes, and you might want to come, too.”

  “Me? Why? Is it my case?”

  “In a roundabout way, yes. Your employee, Zoe Mahoney, she’s in the hospital.”

  “Zoe? Why, what happened?” Sweet, quiet, little Zoe is one of those employees that I keep a close eye on. She’s beautiful and as delicate as a little fairy, and she’s gullible and easily influenced. It wouldn’t surprise me if she has a learning disorder or some mental disability, but she’s a damn savant when it comes to hair. She can make anybody beautiful with her talented hands, and she makes everybody smile with her sweet disposition.

  “She was involved in a domestic dispute. Her husband beat her pretty bad, and she’s in serious condition.”

  “Oh my God. What hospital?”

  “Mother of Mercy. We should change and get going.”

  He covers the food, and we change our clothes and get into his car. My mind is going everywhere at once, but halfway to the hospital, I start to wonder why he got the call about Zoe’s attack. I don’t think he routinely deals with domestic disputes.

  “Levi, why did they call you about this?”

  “I was wondering when you were going to ask that. They called me because it involves your case.”

  “The robberies? How?”

  “They found a large sum of money in a Tease bank deposit bag with black clothing, a ski mask, gloves, and boots that match the description of those worn in the CCTV footage at the scene.”

  “Zoe? They think she did this?”

  “I don’t know, I didn’t get a chance to ask many questions.”

  “I don’t believe it was her. She’s… special, but she isn’t a thief. She’s worked for me for three years, and she’s an exemplary employee.”

  “What do you mean special?”

  “You interviewed her, didn’t you? Did you notice she’s a little slow?”

  “She’s the tiny blonde girl, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She didn’t come off as slow, maybe naïve and extra sweet. She does hair, though. Don’t you have to go to college for that?”

  “Yeah, and she did well in school but doing hair is her thing. I don’t think she could survive without someone looking out for her on a daily basis, you know?”

  “What about her husband? He beat the shit out of her tonight, could he be the one robbing you?”

  “I don’t know him that well. He’s quiet like her, and they’ve only been married for a year, so I guess anything’s possible.”

  I close my eyes tight and try to understand why anyone would want to hurt Zoe.

  “Graham, when did you announce that the salon is not accepting cash anymore?”

  “This morning.”

  “Was Zoe working?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was she working the night you last were robbed?”

  My heart sinks, and I don’t want to answer. “Yes.”

  “He might have been manipulating her into doing it all along. And when he found out the salon isn’t taking cash anymore, he could have taken it out on her, blamed her even.”

  Oh God, this could all be my fault. I knew there might be consequences for the thief, but I never thought it would be something like this. Poor Zoe.

  “If it comes out that he made her do this, I don’t want to press charges.”

  “Let’s just wait until we have more facts.”

  “No. I’m serious, Levi. I don’t want that woman to suffer one second more because of this. She doesn’t understand things like this. She didn’t mean to do it.”

  “Does she understand the difference between right and wrong?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Then she understands that stealing is wrong.”

  “Yes, but if her husband were in her ear manipulating her, she would have been confused.”

  “As I said, let’s wait until we know more.”

  We ride in silence to Mother of Mercy Hospital. Inside, Levi finds Zoe’s room and is taken aside by a uniformed officer. I move to the glass separating her room from the rest of the unit and look at my tiny, frail, and badly broken friend. Zoe has the most beautiful pale skin of anyone I’ve ever known, but tonight every inch of it is black and blue. Her head is wrapped in gauze, and her left arm is in a cast as well as her left leg. She’s covered in cuts and scrapes, some of it even looks like road rash.

  “What did he do to you?” I whisper to myself.

  “What didn’t he do is a better question,” Levi answers from behind me. He steps up to the glass next to me. “She can’t talk, her jaw is wired shut, but from what they could gather, she went home after work, and her husband started talking about the next robbery. When she told him the salon discontinued accepting cash, he went ballistic. He has a record, and he isn’t stable. He was in and out of hospitals for years until he married her, and he has a serious gambling addiction. He was probably taking the money to cover his lost bets.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Locked up. He’s not going anywhere for a while.”

  “So it was him, not her, taking the money?”

  “They say it looks like both of them were doing it. The deposit bag was on the coffee table, and in her closet there was a pile of black clothes that included things in both their sizes.”

  “I won’t press charges against her.”

  “You won’t have to, there’s enough evidence to show she was involved. I know it doesn’t seem fair, but she’s most likely going to get some time
for this.”

  “No. There has to be a way. I’ll hire the best lawyer in the country to prove she’s got special needs. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this the last time anyone ever hurts her.”

  “What about her husband? If you drop the whole case, he’s going to get away with it. He might get in trouble for what he’s done to her, but he stole thousands of dollars from you, doesn’t he deserve to pay for that?”

  “I couldn’t care less about the money, but I want him to rot in jail. Isn’t this considered attempted homicide or something? I mean look at her! It sure as hell looks like he tried to kill her!”

  “He’s mentally ill. That’ll play a big part in how far they go with the charges.”

  “This is so fucked up.”

  “Why don’t you go and sit with her, hold her hand, and talk to her so she knows she’s not alone. It appears she has no immediate family other than her husband.”

  “She has family. She has every person at Tease. We are her family.”

  “Okay then, go and sit with her for a while. I’m going to see if I can find out any more about her.

  He squeezes my shoulder before walking away. I enter her room and pull a chair up next to the bed. I would hold her hand, but one is in a cast, and the other is full of tubes and a clip on her finger that, if I remember correctly, records her pulse. I settle for talking quietly to her telling her everything will be okay. I tell her in a soothing voice that she’s not in any trouble, and Zach can’t hurt her anymore. When I say his name, her eyelids quiver, and a finger on her hand with no cast flinches.

  Then I text everyone from the salon, using a group text that I usually save for employee meetings and salon events, informing them of what’s going on with Zoe. I watch with pride as my people rally around their friend. Gloria organizes visits to the hospital so Zoe will never be alone. Someone else offers to look after her home while she’s gone, and someone else offers to rearrange her schedule, so Zoe’s clients will still get their hair done.

  I may suck at organizing, but I’m damn good at surrounding myself with those who excel at it. After staring at her swollen, unrecognizable face for a while, I wonder if Zach is suffering at all. Does he know the pain his wife is going through because of him?